Nazgul Tales- Ford of Bruinen
by Fuinur
Summary: After accident on Bruinen one of the nazgul is in serious trouble. (slash)


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- Give us the halfling, she'elf… - hissed Captain.

He spurred his horse violently and rode forth. Others reluctantly followed him.

Water started to seethe; seems like some distant thunder echoed… Khamul restrained panic and dug his spurs into horse sides. If there was time for courage, it just came.

Suddenly the roar become overwhelming; dark wall of water rose in meanders of river and hit them, with strong of falling rocks, buried them alive under powerful water masses…

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There was a fading sound of running water… And some voice, rather whisper, which seemed without meaning… Words didn't allow in any reasonable order and Khamul couldn't catch the sense… It was so good; felt like he drifted in a dark, warm nothingness…

Suddenly he felt cold. Sound of roaring waterfall finally reached into his consciousness and snatched him from clutches of protective void. Someone's strong arms grabbed him tightly and dragged ashore. Now sharp pain in lungs and guts almost made him scream; Khamul clenched his teeth, chattering audibly. Still didn't dare to open eyes…

Strong slap in face brought him back to reality.

- Wake up! - there was a harsh, familiar voice.

Khamul twitched and hissed, when companion rolled him aside. He felt heavy arm and hands exerting on his stomach.

Sudden pain and gag reflex shook his body and he threw out a terribly amounts of water. Now, when he finally could breath, convulsions became stronger and he was sick like never in whole life. Pain although decreased…

- Do you hear me?! - voice became inpatient - Speak to me, Khamul! And open your eyes, damn! -

Finally, easterling was able to mastering nausea and looking above. His Captain was kneeling beside and watched him with worried look.

- Thanks Melkor… - he muttered - I was afraid, you're dead… -

Khamul curled up and slowly rose to half- lying position. His ribs ached terribly and a left arm seems be broken or dislocated. Witchking noticed and hold him.

- Don't move. Let me see… - saying that he started to unfasten his armor and removed shoulder pads. Then with a few, fast movements unbuttoned a shirt and bared his arms and chest.

Khamul sat calmly, enduring all treatments. He was still too sore to oppose.

Captain touched his left shoulder and easterling clenched his teeth, feeling sharp pain. After a quick examination, necromancer stopped.

- Arm is not broken. It's only knocked out of the pond. I'll set it now, if you wish. -

Khamul nodded obediently.

- Only be quick with that. -

- Of course… It would hurt, but only a little… - necromancer grinned to him, like it was a best joke.

Then pushed him to the ground, leaned over and grabbed injured arm in iron grip. Khamul winced, barely refraining from screaming. Then pain sharpened and with clearly audible knock his bone jumped into right place; he howled piercingly in a cold air.

A moment later, he lay motionless, flowed with sweat and cursed through clenched teeth. Witchking let him and moved away, still with malicious and cheerful expression.

- Does it hurt? - asked mockingly.

- It was a pure pleasure, my Captain. - snorted Khamul - And I wish to thank you… My gratitude. - he added more with respectful tone.

Then started to rise, but necromancer hold him in place.

- Not so fast… You need to recover a little, or again I will have to carry you. -

Khamul gave him a wry smile and ceased efforts.

- What with the others? - asked.

- They'll come. -

- And if they need help…? -

- I sense them… No one was in a real danger, except you. -

Khamul nodded and closed his eyes, still very weak, intended to rest a little. After some time he had to fall asleep, because pain and all sounds faded, leaving him in blissful ignorance.

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Opening his eyes again, he stated that bright day light faded, replaced by dim, reddish gleam of sunset… He lay on his back, covered with another black cloak… Captain sat nearby, looking at him with some strange, unreadable expression.

- My lord…? - he asked gently - Is something wrong? -

Necromancer seems a little dazed. He blinked rapidly and stiffened a bit.

- No, no… Everything is fine… - he murmured. Then approached and sat right beside him - I'm just… weary… -

He lay down on one side, rested his head on flexed arm, still piercing a servant with burned, chilly gaze.

It was unusual and Khamul felt embarrassed and a little threatened. He tried to ignore situation and started to buttoned his shirt, when suddenly felt cold, heavy grasp around his wrist.

He almost jumped.

- Easy… - there was a harsh whisper - Do not yell… -

- But… -

- Silence. -

Khamul froze, unsure what to expect. He certainly didn't committed any misconduct, to expect punishment, but his lord didn't even seem angry, rather anxious… Or excited.

Suddenly he drew closer, shifting his arm over servant's bare shoulder, and leaned over. Khamul felt warm breathe against own skin, and strong shiver shook him, when another hand moved across chilly muscles of his torso in some kind of rough caress.

He froze, paralyzed; that was something new and terribly unfamiliar… His whole body stiffened and started to trembling slightly.

Simple thought struck him; he was totally inexperienced. He had no interest in such things; always too busy with war, politics and learning the sword, to think about carnal pleasures. His body was strong and trained and he wanted to make it so, not to weaken it by succumbing a fleeting whims.

Of course, sometimes he felt desire, but it was short- lived lust and he never pay attention. A few times he considered taking a whore or even concubine, but quickly resigned. Paying for someone's favors he find extremely humiliating. Also such women absolutely didn't attracted him… Usually silly or insolent, always false, were rather disgusting in his eyes.

On the other hand, he don't find rape acceptable and certainly he didn't wish a marriage. Starting family wasn't for him; simply thought about makes him drenched in a cold sweat. So he used to get rid of tension in much faster and less problematic way.

Now, however, he was really embarrassed. After many long years of fight, rule and constantly danger he used to think, that nothing can derived him from balance, but that was different… No one touched him since decades… And certainly never do that any men…

He felt so many contrary emotions, that it seems unbearable. Also he was unable to mastered his own body; muscles quivered, heart was beating fast and breathing become hard; he was alternately hot and cold.

Finally he regained some control and fast moved away, sliding out from under companion's heavy arm.

- I've never done such things, my lord. - he told with still hoarse and trembling voice.

- Neither do I. - necromancer also withdrew - But don't you have some… longings…? -

Khamul looked at him, confused.

- I do, my liege… But rarely, and it's just passing and vain emotion. It makes a man weak… Short- lived pleasure, that leaves him faint and bemused… -

- That's true… But only if there's no self- control and some restraint. Also when there's too much feelings, which make everything harder… But lust itself cannot receive your strength. -

- So you want to just satisfy your hunger, using opportunity? -

- Well, basically yes… But you're someone special, my second in command, my shadow… I trust you and feel bound with you… Is that enough? -

Eastreling get him a quick glance. It was too much for him; he felt very angry and embarrassed… And in the same time badly aroused. Much time passed, since he felt like that.

Captain didn't rush him; only observed carefully, with some strange gleam in his pale eyes.

Khamul stabbed his sight at the ground, unable to bear that gaze. It was obvious, necromancer would revived him in instant moment… The more, that his body again seemed beyond any control and responded with humiliating eagerness.

He tried to calm down, but without success; closeness and scent of his superior made it impossible.

Only now he realized how much he liked it; the scent of magic, leather and danger… So familiar, so secure. He reluctantly looked ahead.

Necromancer was ominous, even for his own kin- tall and sinewy, hard as iron; his face was angular, with sharp cheekbones and eyes which seems almost hypnotizing. But when he spoke or laughed, cold features seemed to soften a little; he had also a strange, grim sense of humor, which Khamul liked much. But he never think about him differently than as a friend and superior. And certainly he never desired a man.

But now, something's changed… Maybe water or close- death experience caused it, but whatever it was, was very strong. Loneliness and self- restrain of many ages stuck him like a sledgehammer and he desperately wanted to find a relief.

Something had to betray him, because Captain smiled slightly with rather unpleasant, ravenous way, narrowing his eyes … And again moved very close.

- So, as I see, you also feel… awaken… - he whispered in servant's ear, breathing hard.

Suddenly, violently bite him in neck.

Khamul took a deep breath, trembling, and exhaled with low moan. It was absolutely horrible and pleasant is the same time; instantly he loose last remnants of control and succumbed.

First it was more like fight; snarling some obscenities he tried to slip out from under a stronger man, but then it became a little more tender… He forgot about everything else, absorbed by pleasure and another's body- cadaverous pale and strong. Other man pleasured him violently, but it was that sort of pain, which slowly turns into pleasure.

He scratched his shoulders to blood and threw back his head, with chilly howl, when fulfillment came.

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Necromancer lay on his back, with eyelids half- closed and arm still around neck of his companion.

Khamul gave him a quick glance. They both were covered by sweat and little amounts of blood; hard breaths floated steam in cold, night air.

- It won't change anything, right…? - he asked, terribly embarrassed now, when agitation and lust subsided.

- No, no… - necromancer whispered, without looking at him. He also seemed ashamed - But… I have to admit… For someone inexperienced, you're very sharp in these things, easterling… - he added with slight, wry smile.

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Uvatha was walking, stumbling and limping for time to time. His leg was badly injured and stained with almost dried blood. Next to him were Il- Indur and Hamurath; both freezing and bruised, but besides, safe and well.

- Can you sense them? - asked Indur - You shouldn't overstrain… You're bleeding heavily. -

- Damn it! - snorted Uvatha - We must find Captain and others… Too much cursed elves in that woods… Little sons of bitches… -

Suddenly, freezing scream pierced the air. Familiar scream.

- There they are… - muttered third nazgul with relief - Come, brothers… -

When reached a river shore, they saw Captain waiting. He seems weary, but strangely content.

Khamul sat nearby; paler that usual and somewhat jittery, probably because of wounds and contact with water.

- Oh, finally… Come on, gentlemen. - said Witchking mockingly - Uvatha, sit down, please… You're bleeding like a hog. We don't want you here fainted… -


End file.
